Page 24 of Rescued By the Mountain Man

One of the guys, the youngest, Isaac, I believed, came around a corner and spotted me.

His brows shot up. “Miss Zara,” he said while looping a lasso around his elbow, and as I was about to reply, a mountain of a dog came bounding around. Its stark white coat and lolling pink tongue had me rooted in place.

Just eyeballing the dog made me apprehensive; it probably came to my shoulder.

“Goose,” Isaac warned. “Don’t do it.”

Who the hell names a dog that big Goose?

By this point, Goose had started hurling itself at me, bounding out in a rush of vicious glee, but skidded to a stop. Tentatively, I crouched and held out the back of my hand for it to sniff, then squatted down to pet the hundred-pound puppy.

“Why is its name Goose?” I asked.

“She used to be a herd dog in Canada,” Isaac replied. “And it was on her name tag. We didn’t question it.”

“Um,” I looked at the dog and then to Isaac. “Is she going to flatten me?”

Coming forward to drop a hand on the dog’s shaggy head, Isaac shook him. “Nah. She’s well trained.”

I heard the gravel behind me crunch under Warrick’s boots but didn’t turn to look at him when he said, “Bad news, guys, the fair has been postponed, so that goes without saying that you guys do not get to goof off for a few days.”

“I figured,” Isaac replied, tipping his hat back and scratching his forehead. “That storm had to have done some major damage.”

“Not as much as you’d think, but some,” Warrick replied just as another man, Santos, stepped into the clearing. “Today has been a long day, and I just want to get a shower and get a cold beer. Miss Ha—Zara, I mean, do you want to get to your room or see the ranch?”

Surprised by his offer, I replied, “I’d like to see more around, sure. Thank you.”

“Isaac and Santos, would you mind showing Zara around?” he said. “I’ve got some paperwork to do.”

The two of them shared a downright conspiratorial look before Santos said, “Aw shucks, no can do. Bossman, we’re tied up on the east pasture with herding, and the two of us are replacing the fencing from the usual suspects.”

“Usual…suspects?” I echoed.

“A massive bull and his also titanic brother we call Hellhound One and Hellhound Two,” Warrick grunted. “You mean everyone is out there?”

“Even Connie,” Santos said. “That should tell you how bad it is.”

“Goddamn,” Warrick sounded defeated. “I guess I’ll do it myself. You can ride.”

“A horse or an ATV?” I asked.

“If you’re going to work on a ranch, you will need to learn how to ride,” Warrick said, “But I cannot start our lesson in these clothes, and neither can you. I’ll take you to your room, and we can regroup in ten minutes or maybe fifteen.”

“Have fun, you two,” Santos grinned.

As they walked away, Warrick turned to me, “Those two are planning something.”

“I thought the same thing,” I laughed. “Are they going to rig a pipe to soak us or fling cow poop into our faces?”

We entered the house, and Warrick rolled his eyes while stomping his boots. “If they tried that, I’d make them muck out the stable with their toothbrush.”

I laughed as we headed into the house, and I noticed the classic lines of the house. I wondered if I’d ask Warrick if he had a library; if he would show me a room with an 18th-century set-up with an honest to God marble fireplace and bear pelt rugs—or was bearskin too far in history.

He led me to a room that I remembered sleeping in the night before. The gleaming walnut wood stared back at me, the polished brass handle luxuriously gleaming in the low light of the hallway.

Late June sunshine warmed the hardwood floors and glittered off dust motes floating in the air, and the aroma of lemon polish tickled my nose. The only other furniture in the room was a maple dresser opposite the bed, two matching bedside tables, and a hassock. This room was painted in a neutral beige, but the bedding was a luxurious white puffy duvet topped with brown, beige, and white accent pillows.

“I hope you have some good boots to use,” he said, ruffling his hair. “And if not, we’ll find some for you. I’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen.”

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